The Edge

Arian: Part Eleven

Time slowed down even more this time around. It was pitch black, and he couldn't quite see his watch face with the way his hands were tied. No one came for him, not even a random janitor. Had he been stashed in a do not enter area? Had Alistair Black really thought that far ahead?

Fuck that dude, fuck him for real.

Arian tried to keep that rage kindled. It was a better alternative to fear. But he couldn't do it. The terrified anxiety came back, emphasis on terrified.

What if he's not coming back?

What if he hurt the others?

What if...

He tried to beat back the anxiety with a stick. He tried to remember all those techniques Luca used to calm down, and was really annoyed to find he couldn't. Arian's own therapy hadn't covered that shit; there'd been a lot more focus on the whole acting out angle. Anxiety hadn't been on the table then, but it sure as shit was now...

Breathe, dude. Remember to breathe. If he started hyperventilating, he'd pass out, and that would mean losing what little control he had in this situation.

He'd never been good with losing control. His therapist had talked to him about that, too. Arian remembered that being one of the only assessments of his character that he'd agreed with 100%. He just hadn't seen it as a problem. Other people in the family were control freaks too (Helen), and they didn't have to go to therapy for it.

He was starting to understand, though. His desire to control the situation now had him torn between wanting to count down the seconds to see how long it had been and not wanting to know because that wouldn't help, and cycling between both options wasn't helping his anxiety. He still thought it was bullshit that Helen didn't have to go to therapy for her control issues, though.

Helen. Shit. What had she thought when she noticed he was gone? The others must have left by now. There was no way they'd risk losing the trail to save his dumb ass. Had she at least felt bad about it?

I screwed up. I screwed up so bad, and I'm going to pay the price for it.

The thought grew stronger the longer he was alone. How long had it been? Where the hell was Alistair? It seemed weird that he'd been gone for so long.

He's trying to sweat you out. This is his whole shitty plan to make you squirm. You can't let him win.

The thought gave Arian another burst of spite. He hoped that would be enough to stave off the darkness, but it barely lasted a few minutes. When it faded, he was once again left stewing in his thoughts and trying not to have a panic attack.

A new thought joined the chorus: Why haven't they come for me? He knew, objectively, that they wouldn't put his safety before Cassandra's and that he'd probably pissed them off enough that they were completely fine with leaving him. But that didn't stop him from hoping they'd come for him. Gideon would kick the door down, Adoette would cut the ties, and Helen would lecture him the whole way back to the ship...

But no one came.

Anger set in pretty quickly.

Mom and Dad had always talked about how important family was...within reason, sure. If any of them had ever ended up being a serial killer, no one was going to cover for them in the name of family. But barring a major screw up, you didn't leave family. Yet, here he was, trapped in a dark utility corridor and waiting to possibly starve to death or get murdered because they hated him so much...